


Good Grief

by Plaidsoulseller



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel of the Lord Castiel, Fluff, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Just Cas being cute, OFC (Sort of?) No smut, OMC (Sort of?), castiel - Freeform, no ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaidsoulseller/pseuds/Plaidsoulseller
Summary: Castiel never forgets the woman he met in the church as a human. He never forgets how she prayed for her dying husband. He never forgets her faith. He decides to be the answer to her prayers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I got the title from that Bastille song, so sue me.

Castiel never forgot the woman’s face. He had searched, once his Grace was returned and Metatron neutralized. Well, Metatron was in the wind but really, without his Grace he had little chance of faring any better than Castiel had as a human. Still, he found the woman of faith. He just wanted to help. To really help. 

He raised a fist to gently knock on the door. A few small taps was all it took for the woman to come to the door, tears staining her face. “Hello,” Castiel began, but was cut off. 

“My apologies, now is not a good time. I’m not interested in buying anything and I’m happy with my religion, thank you.” She said turning away.

“Please, I’ve come to help.” Castiel pleaded.

The woman looked him up and down, he wore his old uniform, a fitted suit and a beige overcoat, though this one was slightly different from his previous one, it gave him the sense of familiarity. Jimmy had died in those clothes, it seemed like a small memorial to continue wearing them. Something seemed to register in the woman’s mind. “Do I know you?” She asked.

“Yes,” Castiel began, “well, no. Not at all actually. About six months ago you came to St. Andrew’s church, asking for your husband to be saved. Mike was his name.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, I go to that church a lot to pray for Mike. Now what is it you want?”

Castiel nodded, “I asked you that day what if you found out that no one was listening, that heaven had gone out of business.”

“I told you that’s why we have faith, yes, I remember now. But I don’t see why you’re here now.” She said, resting her head against the door frame. The air had a distinct chill, soon it would be winter and the streets would be covered in snow.

“May I come in?” Asked Castiel carefully.

The woman looked him over again, “You said you could help?”

Castiel nodded.

“Okay, come in.” She said, stepping aside and allowing Castiel into her front room. The house was small, and Castiel could hear a slight _“Pshhhhh Click”_ of a breathing machine. Otherwise the house was brimming with life, pictures of the woman and her husband lined a mantle piece, various places they’d seen and memories they’d made. 

“My name is Suzanne,” Said the woman.

Castiel nodded, “I know. Suzanne Marie Jacobs. Your friends call you Sue. You’ve been married to Michael Richard Price since 1998. He was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer in 2012, and has been going through treatment with no results.” 

Suzanne choked on a broken sob, “That’s right. His hospice nurse just left about an hour ago. She says he has maybe a few more days, perhaps a week if he goes to the hospital but… He wouldn’t want that…” She absently ran her fingers along a picture, “I’m starting to think you were right. No one is listening to my prayers.”

Castiel looked over to her, hesitantly taking her hand in his. “My name is Castiel.” He said, voice sure and gaze unwavering, “I am an angel of the lord. I have come to heal your husband.”

“You’re… What?” She sobbed, tears streaming down her face full force now. Castiel gave her a single nod and moved away from her, towards the sound of the breathing machine. 

The room that Mike was in looked more like a hospital room than a bedroom. A hospital bed and intravenous medication were all hooked up as if it belonged there. Castiel pressed two fingers to the man’s forehead and all at once the man’s ashy complexion sprang back to rich hues. He coughed and sputtered, attempting to remove the breathing apparatus. Castiel waved his hand and the tubes that had just previously been down the man’s throat appeared neatly wound on the nightstand. The IV was also disconnected, and Castiel even made sure that there was no puncture wound from where it had been. Suzanne had watched the entire miracle happen right in front of her eyes. 

Mike took a deep breath in and smiled wide when he realized it didn’t hurt. Suzanne quickly ran over and encompassed her husband in a warm hug. Castiel sat back and watched for a moment, before heading back over to Mike. “You should rest,” Castiel said, “Here.” And with another press of his fingers on Mikes forehead, Mike was asleep. 

Castiel turned to Suzanne, “He needs his rest, He will awake again around midnight.” 

“Thank you,” She smiled at him. 

Castiel turned to leave, accomplishing what he had set out to do. 

“Please,” Suzanne said, “Stay for a little while. Can I get you something? You just saved my husband’s life. I need to show you my gratitude, Holy Spirit.”

“You can just call me Castiel. And Coffee would be nice.” Castiel said, a little awkwardly. He had just healed her husband and normally this would be the time he would fly away, off to do more good deeds for humanity, but this time he felt like he should stay. He owed her this company. 

He followed her to the living room and sat on the couch, hands folded and looking around the room as if it was the most fascinating place he’d ever been. He had never spent enough time in a human’s house to admire decor or wall colors or any of that. Besides Bobby’s, but that was a hunter’s house and the memory of what it looked like hardly resembled the warm, non-supernatural home he was at now. 

“A cup of coffee.” Suzanne said, holding out the warm cup for Castiel to take. “I didn’t know angels liked coffee.”

“I’ve grown fond of it, not so much the flavors, but the ritualistic way in which your kind regards it.” Castiel says, taking a small sip.

Suzanne continued to stare at Castiel as if he wasn’t real, but Castiel seemed unfazed by the attention. “So, may I ask if what you said in that church that day was a test? I know the lord works in mysterious ways, but, the last time we met you seemed… Sad.”

“No it wasn’t a test. What I told you that day is true, there’s no one listening. Heaven, at the time, was in shambles and I was to blame. When we met I was human due to unfortunate and unintended circumstances. You seemed so adamant in your faith that I knew if I survived I had to find you and help.” Castiel said.

“Okay, that’s a lot to take in…You were human? That can happen?”

“Not usually, no. I was awful at being human. I tried to take solace in the church but I knew I no longer belonged. Homeless and hapless, it was your faith that made me believe I could find my way back. For that I thank you.”

“Healing Mike is thanks enough…” She said, frowning down at her own mug. “Am I dreaming?” She asked.

“No, you’re awake.” Castiel said calmly, tentatively taking one of her hands in his own. 

She cried silent tears of joy, and Castiel felt he was finally doing the lord’s work.


End file.
